


Morning In

by stilesinwonderland (itsabravenewworld)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-31 00:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsabravenewworld/pseuds/stilesinwonderland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short ficlet about Stiles waking up with Derek in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning In

**Author's Note:**

> This was for my friend Julia because I love her and I'm sharing it because I love all of you! <3 Enjoy!

Stiles moans, molding into the heat and solidity of the body behind him, blinks owlishly at the light feeding through the open doorway that had pulled him from sleep. His whole body resists scooting a little bit away from Derek’s comfortable grasp and the legs tangled with his own flex to try and keep him still, but he reaches his hand, grapples over the nightstand next to Derek’s bed, and catches his glasses, slipping them onto his nose.

“Isaac.” He says to the figure standing in the doorway once his form is clear. Derek growls from behind him, still asleep, and he huffs in laughter. “What’s up, man?”

Isaac shuffles on his bare feet, toes wiggling. “I was going to make breakfast and wanted to ask if you wanted--”

“No,” Derek grumbles, burrows further into the bare skin of Stiles’s back, and the influx of cold air into the pocket of blankets makes him check to make sure no other potentially embarrassing skin is showing as he fixes the sheets around them.

Stiles huffs, and his eyes crinkle happily when he looks back over his shoulders and Derek’s eyes are closed again, on purpose. “It’s surprising that you even get anything done, you lazy ass.” He directs his attention back to Isaac. “Give us like a half hour?”

Isaac nods. He’s holding Derek’s car keys in between his fingers, and Stiles pointedly ignores that fact because it’ll be hilarious watching Derek get riled up over it later. “I’m just going to drive and pick up some eggs and stuff, so by the time I get back, try to be up.”

“Who’s the legal guardian here again?” Derek grumbles. His hair is sticking up when Stiles turns in his arms to face him because Isaac’s already gone, and he’s frowning. “Don’t take my car, Isaac!” he yells, and the door slams closed right after. “Damn kid is laughing at me.”

Stiles laughs, leans his forehead onto Derek’s chest, just below his clavicle and kisses the skin there. “It’s too early to be awake,” he says eventually, and Derek is glaring at him like he’s been trying to tell him that, which, well, he has. Derek’s fingers are caressing the skin of his hips, up and up to his ribcage, over his back while his other hand strokes his neck directly under his chin, forming goosebumps.

His eyes are scanning, and Stiles purses his lips, feeling self-conscious under the scrutiny. Derek seems to notice, doesn’t seem to want that at all (Stiles can assume from the emotion that his eyebrows let off), and kisses him once, slowly with a dip of his head. Stiles’s bottom lip catches once before smoothly melding to Derek’s in a feather soft glide.  His body moves of its own accord, slides closer on the sheets to press against the solid wall of muscles at the same time his hand clenches around the cord of Derek’s bicep.

They’ve already gotten very good at kissing, and Stiles has noticed that it seems to get better with time, and he appreciates that this is one of the few not-frenzied kisses they’ve shared since they’ve begun the whole “being able to kiss all of the time” thing. “When did you put a shirt on?” Stiles murmurs into Derek’s mouth, “I didn’t say you could do that.” He’s pawing the hem of Derek’s neckline, and Derek chuffs, allows it to be taken off over his head and slumping back to the pillows. He pulls Stiles with him, though, and helps him to straddle him with his legs pinning Derek’s tiny hips between them. They kiss, and Stiles can’t help himself from placing pecks down Derek’s stubbly chin, his neck, down the planes of his chest.

Derek’s palms lay flat against his lower back, a persistent pressure, and he pushes back against it, until they’re pushing him down onto his stomach, their bodies flat and touching from head to toe. Stiles leans his chin against Derek’s chest and watches him, with his dark dusk of hair on his cheeks and chin and his green eyes shining, and fuck he looks perfect.

Derek hums in his throat, quirks his mouth up, and kisses him on the cheekbone because he can’t quite reach Stiles’s lips in that position. “So Isaac’s picking up food?”

“Yep,” Stiles grins at him, and it reaches past his eyes. “If you’re good, I’ll make you pancakes.”

Derek’s eyes shimmer, and Stiles grunts as he’s handled by the waist and flipped straight onto his back, and Derek is hovering over him. “And if I’m bad?” Derek whispers in his ear, and Stiles barely holds back a shudder. He pulls him down for a sloppy kiss, and can feel the chill air in the room heating up already. He meets his eyes, and looks down to Derek’s kiss-bitten lips, then back up again.

“If you’re bad, I’ll buy you a whole damn IHOP.”


End file.
